


The Fey King

by HyperKid



Series: The Fey King [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caduceus knew alllllll along, Fluff, Frumpkin is a fey king, Gen, Humour, I’m not sorry, Multi, Other, he still likes pets, pet wizard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 08:22:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18279431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: Caleb thought he was joking when he said Frumpkin was a fey king. But archfey can take a wide variety of shapes.





	The Fey King

**Author's Note:**

> HK: This has been my actual headcanon since the advent of Sex Judge Frumpkin and I am not sorry.  
> Mollymauk: This explains a lot about you, honestly.  
> HK: That I’m not sorry or Frumpkin secretly being allmighty?  
> Mollymauk: Honestly both, but I already knew you were a shit disturber.  
> HK: Very fair. It is why you’re my favourite.  
> Mollymauk: You have one favourite now?  
> HK: Only when there’s just one of you around. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Terrible language? 
> 
> Disclaimer: I own a Molly pinup body pillow, because that’s a thing that exists now, but I do not own Critical Role!

Caleb wasn’t sure what made him ask the question. He’d just cast Find Familiar for what felt like the thousandth time, bringing Frumpkin back after another unfortunate accident. A knot in his chest loosened as the familiar blinked back into existence, shaking itself to get used to the weight of fur. 

 

A small smile stole across his lips and he held out his arms for the cat to jump into them, fingers automatically finding the best spots to pull out a purr. 

 

“What kind of form do you wear when you’re at home,” he murmured, rubbing his cheek against the top of Frumpkin’s head. Then something strange happens. Frumpkin stills in his grip, turning his face to stare at Caleb calculatingly. 

 

The wizard could feel something going on, some kind of decision being made behind those eyes, but for once their connection didn’t show him everything. Then Frumpkin leapt down, padded across the floor, and changed. 

 

Caleb would have fallen flat on his ass if he wasn’t already there from completing the ritual. His Frumpkin, his dear cat, doing a magic that Caleb doesn’t know, changing without the usual sacrifice of incense. 

 

And changing into what? 

 

Blue eyes tracked slowly across the floor, starting with the feet because, well. It was easier. They were hidden beneath long robes of gleaming white, and Caleb could follow those up the body smoothly. Tall, broad shouldered, and slenderly muscled, the fabric clung flatteringly to the figure standing before him. 

 

The archfey standing before him. 

 

The long ginger hair is familiar, and so are the amber eyes, though the tanned skin on bare arms is darker than he’d have expected. The faint smile is both familiar and unfamiliar by turns, the expression he’d always pictured when Frumpkin is especially happy or smug. 

 

His name probably wasn’t Frumpkin. 

 

It took a while for Caleb to find his voice, but the fey being was surprisingly patient. He just watched the wizard, apparently enjoying his reaction. Finally Caleb forced himself to swallow. 

 

“You... you are not a cat.” It felt stupid, the worst possible thing to say and Caleb would have cursed himself a thousand ways to Sunday if the fey hadn’t chuckled softly. 

 

“I’m not,” he agreed, his voice low and musical, a lilting accent not unlike Molly’s tangled around his words, “but I do quite like being a cat. It is... an agreeable shape.” 

 

“I imagine you could take any shape you chose,” Caleb agreed warily, finally having the presence of mind to scooch back. Not to rise. Not if that would cause offence. He knew what happened to those who annoyed an archfey. 

 

Frumpkin considered him for a moment, that same smile pulling ever wider. 

 

“Or any you choose,” he agreed with a graceful incline of his head. A terrible urge to laugh twisted in Caleb’s gut. 

 

“I suppose that begs the question... have you always been my cat? I mean... are you the familiar I first called?” It had felt the same, every step of the ritual old and familiar and exactly the same, but he had to be sure. 

 

He wore the damn cat as a scarf. 

 

The archfey’s smile grew wider. 

 

“I have. You have been... a pleasant diversion for me.” 

 

Caleb swallowed again, not quite able to meet his eyes and thankful not to have to fight the urge. There was only one thought left in his mind. 

 

“Why?” Normally it would be dangerous, possibly provoking the ever changing and unknowable mind of the archfey. But Frumpkin seems to have been expecting it, chuckling softly. 

 

“I was bored,” he said in a careless manner, waving a hand to describe vague matters. “I grew tired with ruling and thought to have myself a vacation. Getting “trapped” in a familiar binding allowed me the excuse to come to this realm and spend some time exploring, getting to know the other creatures here.” 

 

A dozen occasions of instructing Frumpkin to do a blep ran through Caleb’s mind simultaneously and he couldn’t fight the blush. 

 

“It is not... inconvenient for you?” He managed to ask, not sure how to phrase the question. After all, he had already asked why, and “what the actual fuck” wasn’t something you said to an archfey and lived. 

 

Frumpkin chuckled softly and shook his head, smiling down at the human and sinking gracefully to sit across from him. 

 

“Not at all. Humans live barely any time at all compared to us, and at the time you seemed unlikely to last even that short span.” 

 

Thinking back to those early days, fresh from the asylum, Caleb couldn’t even bring himself to be offended. One phrase stuck, though. 

 

“At the time?” He rasped, his throat suddenly dry. The easiest way to break the familiar binding would be his death, he knew, and knew he’d be powerless to stop the creature before him. 

 

He was shocked to feel a gentle warmth nudging through the connection, a comfort that usually accompanied a warm, furry body in his arms. 

 

“At the time,” the archfey agreed, his voice oddly soft. His head cocked to one side as he considered the wizard with that same, odd smile. “I have grown... fond of you.” 

 

Caleb couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that. Fey were notoriously dangerous, the more powerful and longer lived thinking of the material plane’s residents as playthings or amusing diversions, not real people who could need or be hurt. And for an archfey, and one who spoke so casually of rule... it couldn’t be a good thing. 

 

But that gentle warmth, the nudging reminder that their bond remained, didn’t feel dangerous. 

 

“Fond?” He whispered, staring intently at the crossed legs in front of him. Frumpkin shrugged carelessly, tossing a fall of silken ginger hair back over his shoulder. 

 

“After a fashion. You are quite different from the other wizards I have encountered. You... cared, for me.” He pronounced the word strangely, as though feeling the shape on his tongue. Like it was a strange new delicacy, something completely unfamiliar. 

 

Caleb could relate to that. 

 

But the archfey wasn’t done. 

 

“Despite knowing I was a fey creature and couldn’t be killed, you worked so hard to preserve this little shell you gave me. You fed me food I did not need, carried me knowing I wouldn’t tire, even did your all to return me to a shape you believed I preferred even when I could be more useful to you in a hundred other shapes. You are... kind, Caleb Widogast. A better man than you believe you are. So I decided to prolong my little vacation by preserving your life in return.” 

 

He said it easily, almost off handedly as though keeping Caleb alive were as simple a decision as what to have for breakfast. It probably had been, at the time. Caleb frowned, doing his best to digest the information before him. 

 

If anyone else had said something like that to him it would have been easy to dismiss, just another person fooled by his facade. But... this was Frumpkin. And an archfey. And it was fucking weird to hear an archfey talk about kindness and caring for him. 

 

“You... will you help me?” A hint of hope crept into the question. An archfey would be a powerful ally, not only in their battles but in his quest to dominate time. 

 

Frumpkin shrugged languidly, waving a hand. 

 

“In the ways I can. I don’t especially want anyone else knowing where I am, and I don’t know anything of the manipulation of time you desire.” 

 

Caleb did his best to hide the disappointment plummeting through his chest, but the fey seemed to notice anyway, a slight frown appearing on his face. 

 

“Time is... different, in the Fey Wild. That on its own may be helpful to you, if you were to travel to my realm. But as I said, I would prefer no one to know where I am, so I could not ease your journey there overmuch.” 

 

The wizard frowned a little, another question coming to mind. The fey was surprisingly easy to talk to, much less aloof and dangerous than he might have expected. Perhaps scratching his tummy for five years did count for something. 

 

“Then why have you revealed yourself to me? Why now?” 

 

A wicked grin split across Frumpkin’s face and he gestured at Caleb. 

 

“Your reaction has been most amusing.” 

 

A sceptical eyebrow rose before Caleb could remind himself what a bad idea that could be. But the fey laughed, leaning forward to tap the tip of his nose. 

 

“We have been through much together, Caleb Widogast. And with the friends you have now, you may well achieve your goals.” 

 

Caleb blinked, his brain temporarily short circuiting. 

 

“Did... did you just boop me.” 

 

“Yes.” Frumpkin smiled playfully, leaning back on one arm. All Caleb could do was stare at him blankly, mind spinning. 

 

On one side, everything he knew about the Fey Wild and archfey said this should be an imposing, terrifying ethereal being who’d watch him with disdain. On another, this was Frumpkin. The patient, snuggly cat who curled up under his coat in cold weather. 

 

On a third and mildly disturbing side, the archfey was wearing majestic robes and sprawled on the floor, booping his nose. 

 

It was a lot. 

 

One hand rose slowly to touch the place Frumpkin had. 

 

“I... I suppose I must ask what this will mean from now on? How I should... treat you?” Caleb asked slowly, feeling his way through the sentence. Frumpkin shrugged, turning and laying himself down so his head landed in Caleb’s lap. 

 

“You cannot tell your companions about me, of course. I may show them as the need arises. But you? Treat me as normal. Like nothing has changed.” With his forehead he nudged one of Caleb’s hands until it rose and automatically fell into his hair. A satisfied purr rumbled from his lips, deeper and more resonant than in his smaller from. 

 

Slowly, Caleb began stroking his fingers through silky ginger hair. It was all a dream. Clearly. This must be a dream. It was way too fucking surreal to be anything else. 

 

They sat in silence for a while, Caleb gradually growing more confident in his ministrations. He found the pointed curve of an ear, a curious rub behind it gaining him a louder noise of approval. It wasn’t entirely unlike petting a cat, he supposed. 

 

A knock at the door startled him out of his slightly stunned revery, and before he could glance down his lap was full of actual cat. Frumpkin blinked slowly up at him, casting a disdainful glance at the door before rolling onto his feet and stalking towards the bed. 

 

*If it’s the tiefling, tell her she’d better fuck you properly if you’re going to do it at all,* came the smooth, melodious voice in Caleb’s head. He tripped over his own feet on the way to the door. 

 

He hadn’t actually considered that particular implication before; all the times Frumpkin had been around while he tumbled with the members of the group. The few times he’d borrowed the cat’s eyes to watch. Blood flushed his cheeks, ears, forehead, possibly all the way down his chest as he reached the door. 

 

It was indeed Jester, beaming broadly at him. 

 

“Hello Caleb!” She called cheerfully, stepping past him into the room. “You’re very red. Were you ma-stur-bating?” She broke the last word out into individual syllables, a giggle at the end as she made her way to the bed. 

 

Frumpkin blinked slowly up at her as she dropped to sit beside him, her fingers sinking immediately into his fur to pet him. 

 

“Caduceus was wondering if you were ready for more swamp kitten training. Hello Frumpkin, it’s good to see you! I missed you so much,” Jester continued blithely, completely unaware she was caressing the face of a fey lord and making cooing noises. Frumpkin’s eyes closed in pleasure and he purred, leaning into her touches. 

 

Caleb just stared at the pair of them for a while. The question didn’t even register, his head was just full of cognitive dissonance. 

 

“Helloooo? Caleb?” 

 

He shook his head sharply, realising that Jester was looking at him again. Frumpkin had moved into her lap for better petting, his front paws on her chest as she scritched up and down his back. Part of Caleb wondered if he was copping a feel. A snicker rumbled back across the connection and the cat dropped back onto the bed, stalking across towards him. 

 

Jester pouted, bereft of cat, and pushed herself up again. 

 

“Are you coming or not? If you need a hand I can always help,” she teased, innuendo layering her voice as she stepped closer. Caleb shook his head quickly, glancing down at Frumpkin. Amber eyes blinked slowly up at him. 

 

“No, I...” the wizard stammered, trapped in the gaze and backing up into the door. Jester stilled, confused, and he forced himself to smile. “It’s nothing. Of course I will be along immediately.” 

 

** 

 

It was hard to behave as if everything was normal with the memory of that morning fresh in his mind. More than just a flicker of mood, too, he could hear Frumpkin’s voice through the bond now. The archfey was deeply amused by the moorbounders and the training to ride them. 

 

Caleb had the sneaking suspicion he’d been saving up the sarcastic comments. If that had been what finally made his decision... 

 

Well. 

 

It would be very fey. 

 

For the first time since he’d summoned the familiar, Caleb felt a little awkward in his presence. It didn’t feel right to give commands to the archfey, especially not anything so simple as to cuddle up on his shoulder. And... he couldn’t help being distrustful. 

 

Frumpkin was not what Caleb thought he was. 

 

The fey didn’t seem to mind, comfortable and happy in his cat form, sitting to one side to watch training and giving Jester the occasional poke for more attention. Caduceus needed no poking to give extra adoration to the cat when he wasn’t actively working with his own moorbounder. 

 

Clarabell seemed fascinated by him too, crouching down to place her head on the ground to have her face on Frumpkin’s level. It left her butt stuck up into the air, her tail waggling in interest behind her. For a moment Caleb was concerned, about to snap Frumpkin away before she could pounce. 

 

Then he remembered what Frumpkin was. The massive cat couldn’t be a threat. The archfey glanced over his shoulder at Caleb, blinking slowly in a cat smile. Caleb hesitated a moment longer then turned away, returning his attention to Yannick. 

 

** 

 

It took several days for the vague unease to begin to fade. Caleb considered himself very lucky that Frumpkin wasn’t offended, every time he caught the archfey looking at him. But apart from their moments together that first night, nothing was different. 

 

Frumpkin followed his commands, played with his friends, curled up in the back of his neck at night for warmth. Slowly, the wizard found himself beginning to settle. 

 

Maybe it really wasn’t a big deal. 

 

Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. 

 

Those kinds of thoughts were usually squashed by a lazy chuckle from the mental bond. On one occasion Frumpkin was a little less subtle, poking a paw directly up his nose. 

 

It was very hard to think of him as an imposing and powerful being when he stared Caleb dead in the eye for a solid minute before doing a slow blep. 

 

And as he relaxed, Caleb became more comfortable moving him around again, snapping Frumpkin to his side, off to explore, back around his neck in a scarf. At first he told himself it was basically just a question anyway; if he really didn’t want to be there, Frumpkin would jump down and walk away. But the archfey was very happy to snuggle up, pushing his head demandingly into pets and batting with a paw if he thought he wasn’t getting enough attention. Still, he couldn’t get rid of the lingering hesitation. 

 

** 

 

“I didn’t tell you who I am for you to be scared of me, Caleb.” 

 

The wizard tensed, but didn’t turn. There could only be one person in the room. He kept his gaze focused on his book. 

 

“I am not scared of you.” 

 

They both knew it was a lie, and Frumpkin didn’t bother hiding his derisive snort. 

 

“I can still read your mind, wizard.” The bed dipped behind Caleb and a second later a pointed chin was pressing into his shoulder. “I also didn’t tell you to ignore me.” 

 

Caleb froze, eyes staring blankly into the wall. Was... no. The archfey couldn’t be... but a pair of dark arms slipped around his waist, a grumpy little sound coming from that regal face as he butted his head against Caleb’s for attention. It was so catlike Caleb couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips. Hesitantly, he raised a hand to the fey’s hair. 

 

“I’m sorry... it just seems a little... undignified.” 

 

Frumpkin huffed hard enough that Caleb’s hair blew across his face, pushing his head into Caleb’s hand. 

 

“If I wanted dignified, I’d have stayed at home. Half the fun of being a cat is the attention.” 

 

And Caleb couldn’t deny that it fit him as his fingers sank into silken red hair. Even in his... well, it was hard to think of this as Frumpkin’s “real” shape, but Caleb supposed it was his normal one, the archfey was not formal. 

 

He had the complete confidence of one who had never questioned himself, nor suffered questions from others. He knew his power, and rather than folding to expectations he seemed to do whatever he felt like. Caleb privately suspected the Traveler would be quite like that, if he met the deity. 

 

It was like nothing else he’d ever experienced, not with elves or humans of power. 

 

He’d never actually considered messaging Yussah about it. How do you explain that your familiar is actually a real fey king? 

 

A somewhat familiar gust of air tufted Caleb’s hair around as the body behind him disappeared, reappearing in front of him with his head in his lap. The sudden displacement made him jolt a little and he raised the book automatically, frowning down. The archfey grinned back up at him, entirely unrepentant. 

 

“More petting.” 

 

A tiny smile very nearly tugged its way across Caleb’s lips. He forced it back down and did his best to frown sternly. Frumpkin was just so... catlike. 

 

“I am trying to read.” 

 

“So pet me while you do it. You’ve done it before,” the fey pointed out in a reasonable tone of voice. Caleb couldn’t work out how to pose an objection, but he tried. 

 

“You were... smaller.” It sounded pathetic, and Caleb was well aware he would be giving in and providing the desired pets at some point. It wasn’t something he could refuse... if he was afraid of the archfey’s reactions. A small furrow developed between his brows as he considered. 

 

One slender brown hand wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand down into silken ginger curls. Without really thinking about it, Caleb began to stroke. 

 

Was the archfey testing him? Did it want him to refuse? And if so, why? He claimed he didn’t want Caleb to be afraid, or uncomfortable. The implication seemed to be that he wanted things to go back to how they were. 

 

It wasn’t like he’d have a reason to bother fabricating an offence or tricking Caleb into one, because he already had everything he needed to destroy the human, just by existing. So was he pushing to see if Caleb would push back? Or was he just genuinely bored? It couldn’t be discounted. Fey were notoriously fickle, and asking to be petted wasn’t completely past the realms of possibility. The strangeness of the request would actually make it more likely. 

 

Caleb resolved himself to refuse, if only to gauge the fey’s reaction. He had far too many unanswered questions. He looked down to do so... and for the first time noticed his hand passing rhythmically through silken fey hair. 

 

** 

 

It was probably because he wasn’t actually a cat, but Caleb found himself becoming a little frustrated with his familiar for the first time. He felt... cheated, almost. Ever since learning his true identity, things had become uncomfortable between them. 

 

Well. 

 

On Caleb’s side. And the archfey insisted that he personally would much prefer things go back to how they were sooner rather than later. 

 

Deep down, Caleb wanted nothing more. Frumpkin had been everything to him, friend, companion, trusted confidant, and literally his eyes and ears. Any kind of distance between them was unfamiliar and unpleasant. 

 

But how could they be close again knowing that Frumpkin could kill him in the blink of an eye? It weighed on Caleb’s mind as they wandered Assarius, investigating the abyssal portals. 

 

If it came down to it, Yasha could kill him in the blink of an eye. Likely so could Beau, Nott, even Fjord. The clerics he wasn’t so sure of, but he supposed that since them deciding not to heal him would have the same effect it had to count. 

 

But he trusted them all without question, unequivocally. The way he used to trust Frumpkin. 

 

As they reached the first well in the city’s residential areas, he came to a decision. All he could do was what he had done for the past five years; trust his familiar. 

 

A little imp of mischief waved a flag in the back of his mind as they gathered around, looking down into the well. 

 

Might as well test the fey king’s word first. 

 

Caleb dropped Frumpkin into the well. 

 

The stream of hissing and yowling translated itself into screamed swearwords in the back of his mind, and Caleb all but collapsed as relief washed over him, hiding a grin. 

 

If Frumpkin didn’t kill him for that it wasn’t going to happen. 

 

** 

 

On the other side of the well, Caduceus watched Caleb with a bemused smile as Beau fished Frumpkin from the water. He couldn’t imagine why the human was so happy to be sworn at, but he figured he could always ask Frumpkin later. 

 

They talked about Caleb kind of a lot. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: Caduceus knows everything that is going on all the time and is probably the reason Frumpkin told Caleb. Cad probably assumes Caleb already knew.


End file.
